


Wait Your Turn

by StarkRogers



Series: Collared Good Omens [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Collars, Dom/sub, Dominant Crowley (Good Omens), Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Submissive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkRogers/pseuds/StarkRogers
Summary: A companion piece toAir Without Breath, a collared!Crowley fic. Both were prompts on the Tadfield Advertiser meme.Aziraphale is collared, and Crowley takes his pleasure from him over and over.





	Wait Your Turn

Aziraphale hums softly, the sound vibrating in his throat, against the collar. He does it again just for the feeling, closing his eyes and humming softly, sensation washing over him. Soft lips join the cloudy haze surrounding him: Crowley’s lips pressing against the edge of the collar reverently, posessively.

“_Mine_, Angel,” Crowley whispers, and Aziraphale shudders with delight. 

“Oh yes,” Aziraphale effuses, “absolutely yours, darling,” he adds with a sugary smile that Crowley immediately devours. Crowley’s fingers trace the edge of the collar until Aziraphale whines against his mouth. Crowley drops his mouth down to the collar again, dipping his tongue beneath the smooth rounded edges, and Aziraphale writhes against him, gasping, hands clenching at Crowley’s shirt. 

Crowley’s teeth dig into the thin flesh of Aziraphale’s neck, pulling at the skin he’s so far just teased, and Aziraphale swears, digging his fingers into Crowley’s shirt as he gasps, trying to find breath again, enough air to speak more than one word at a time. Crowley doesn’t give him a chance; a moment later he switches the grip of his teeth from Aziraphale’s neck to the back of the collar, and fills Aziraphale from behind in one smooth motion. 

“_Crowley!_”Aziraphale shouts, delighted at the pure animalistic violence of it. Crowley wraps both hands around Aziraphale, holding him close and tight as he fucks him, and all Aziraphale can do is throw himself back against Crowley with wild abandon, trying to match his speed but unable to control the writhing of his own hips as Crowley keeps _missing_ the best spot inside of him. 

Sensation - lust - need - all build until Aziraphale is full of them, until the only thing tethering him to this world is the insistent tug of the collar, keeping him close to Crowley even as his body tries to curl up with want. He begs, he pleads for Crowley to touch him, but the demon lives up to his namesake and instead takes his own pleasure from Aziraphale’s body - more than once - with no obvious regard for Aziraphale’s desires. It _inflames_ him, makes him desperate as he feels Crowley filling him again and again, feels the demon’s repeated releases leaking from his body. He feels _filthy_ and _delighted_ and _owned_, and then suddenly Crowley’s hand is around Aziraphale’s length, and he comes with shouts of ecstasy after only a few strokes. 

They sag down together, both beyond spent. The collar where Crowley had been biting it is wet against the back of Aziraphale’s neck with saliva, and he can feel the absolute _mess_ they’ve left between them on the bed, but Aziraphale is too tired to move, too tired to even miracle either thing away. Crowley, however, as exhausted as he must also be, sits up and begins to clean them up, starting with the puddle between them. Aziraphale pouts at the thought of losing all that hard earned work, but gives an exhausted yelp of delight as he’s suddenly filled with a plug.

“I know you want to hold onto it for a bit,” Crowley says with a dark grin, his fingers loosening the collar around Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale smiles up at him with a look that’s so purely adoring it makes Crowley flush. Crowley lays back down next to him when he's done, and they fold themselves into one another's arms, falling swiftly asleep.


End file.
